Mirror, Mirror
by GarrulousGibberish
Summary: Mirrors should never be trusted. We're not supposed to know about the lives beyond the glass. Nor them, us. But it's too late to go back now. Lives are at stake, and someone has to do something. Specifically Merlin's life, and Arthur is that someone. MxA
1. Prologue

**Title:** Mirror, Mirror

**Chapter Zero:** Prologue

**Started: **07/28/10 2:59:38 PM

**Story Quote: **Out of the corners of her eyes, she watched as people fell to their knees and were mercilessly claimed. She had to keep running; she couldn't hesitate.

**Author's Note: **This was all due to a very strange dream I had. I am to believe that my dream was due to a picture war I was having with my friend (he kept sending me mirror pics) and then being sick. It was such a crazy dream, though, I had to write about it.

Many thanks to: **BlueItem** (my cohort and idea manager) and **Speedy Speck** (my beta)

* * *

People screamed in terror as they fled the rotting forest. Mighty trees withered in seconds, with their branches sagging from infirmity and decay. Charred leaves fell like black rain and were crushed by the many stumbling feet. Birds took to the blackened sky in a great waving mass, their screams mingling with those resonating from the ground below. The land was now beginning to turn mushy and held fast to fleeing legs, trapping them in a muddy tomb before pulling them slowly down. A man pulled with feeble might, nails clawing futilely into marshy earth, before he was wrenched, screaming, into the dark, smothering pit.

A child bawled as she ran, clutching the little rag doll her mother had made for her like some kind of lifeline. The ground was holding quick to her tiny shoes, sucking them right off her feet. She didn't stop to try and get them, for she knew to stop meant to die. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as people fell to their knees and were mercilessly claimed. She had to keep running; she couldn't hesitate.

Lightning split the warring sky in bright flashes of silver and eerily illuminated the landscape. She could see the dying trees of the once familiar forest around her, and she could make out the horror etched upon people's faces as they streamed by, only to fall victim to the earth below. Some people had taken refuge within the branches of the failing trees, but they soon cried out in agony as their flesh burned and discoloured grotesquely. Her chest was heaving with great, terrified sobs, but she kept running.

Up ahead were the Snake Rivers. They spiralled around like so many wild serpents' tongues, and had rapids so harsh and wicked that the people often called them White Poison. And they were headed right towards them. The child watched as people dove into the raging waters, heads weaving above and under the surface and then never rising. Her weak arms would never make it to the other shore where the giant willow tree stood untouched by the surrounding devastation.

What could she do? If she stayed there, she would be taken underground, if she jumped, she would be swept away by the Snake's deadly current. Just then she stumbled and the little rag doll fell from her grasp, tumbling into the marsh. A whimper choked through her airways painfully. She had reached the shore now, and stopped, watching as the people she grew up with plummeted into the depths and struggled to resurface.

There was nowhere for her to run. She stood on the bank and stared blankly at the willow tree; her salvation. The lightning had stopped for a moment, plunging everything into darkness. She could not see the willow any more, nor the shrivelled trees, but she could feel the icy water tug at her ankles like fiendish little hands, and hear the villagers' screams fill the still, dead air. Was she just going to wait there, at the Snake's back, and die?

No.

She jumped.

Cold water constricted her movements as she tried to tread desperately. The air in her lungs froze like ice, feeling like a kick to the chest would do, and no matter how hard she tried to suck in another breath instantly died in her throat. The current carried her down under the water in one fluid motion.

Her limbs stopped obeying her commands and she floated there, weightless and under the Snake's control. She knew that it was a hopeless fight. In the darkness of the water, sounds were muted, and it was peaceful. Her lungs burned with the need for air, but the pain seemed far off, like it was happening to someone else. She knew she was going to die, but now it didn't seem like such a horrible fate.

And then something grabbed her arm. The water's surface broke with a forceful splash as she was pulled from the river's depths and into the freeing air. Her eyes wandered over to the force, her vision hazy and her mind still in a dreamy state, and tried to make out what it was in the darkness. All she caught was a shimmery glimpse of something bright, and then she saw no more.

The bank was gritty and cut deeply into her the soft skin of her cheek. Water spouted from her mouth in abrupt bursts and she tried to roll onto her knees. Half her body was still submerged in water, and her legs felt numb and useless. Her fingers grabbed at the grass, as she tried to pull herself up. But her strength failed her and she plopped back into the muck. Her eyes remained watery and were unable to focus. Everything was a blur of motion and light. Had she died? Or had she made it? She couldn't tell. The blurs all swam together making her stomach lurch violently.

Somewhere further up the bank a silvery flash of light struck, but instead of blinking away it lingered, flickering from side to side. Had she the strength, she would have run, or at least edged away. As it was, she just stared as it drew ever closer.

And then it touched her.

Her heart skipped erratically and her vision went static-white. It was all she could do to scream out. Then in the field of white she saw something coming towards her. A hand lightly brushed her tear-stained cheek. Was someone there? She wailed out her plea, hoping for some sort of aid. Whoever it was ignored her, instead just continuously stroking her cheek in a stark contrast to the pain that infiltrated her body.

Before the final darkness claimed her, she sought the being's eyes, but they were not what she had expected. They shone gleefully with the same terrifying gleam as the lightning.

And then, there was no more light.

* * *

"_Mer_lin. Be careful!" Arthur shouted as he watched his servant waver under the mirror's weight. "If you break it the consequences will be on _your _head."

"Prat," Merlin muttered, trying to regain his footing after the mirror teetered in his hands. Why was this thing so bloody heavy? And why was _he _of all people having to put it in? Probably just for Arthur's entertainment, no doubt. He groaned as he bent down and leant the mirror against the stone wall in the corridor, then gently settled it more securely. "There, happy now?"

"No," Arthur groused, "we've lost a good half hour thanks to you stumbling about like a buffoon. I've got to go talk to my father, and you will be there too." He turned around haughtily and stalked off, leaving Merlin panting by the mirror.

Well, pardon _him_ for not being all brawn and no brains. He stood up and started to follow after the young prince, but a swift strike of silver caught his eye. He turned, stunned, and stared at the mirror's surface. It was ablaze in white for a split moment, but when he blinked, it returned to normal.

"Let's _go!_" Arthur yelled impatiently from down the hall. Shocked out of his stupor Merlin jogged away. What was that? Surely he hadn't seen what he thought he had. No, it must have been a trick of the sun. That was all.

But the girl's screaming face remained clearly in his mind. As did his own.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for reading. Feedback is _greatly_ appreciated.


	2. I: It's a Kind of Magic

**Title: **Mirror, Mirror

**Arc I:** Summer

**Chapter One:** It's a Kind of Magic (Queen)

**Started:** 07/23/10 05:37:15 PM

**Story Quote: **If Edith tried to go to the banquet he needed to be there in order to make sure nothing fate-altering would happen.

**Author's Note:** I should probably make a note here. Please no yelling at me for being wrong about character outcomes. Many elements are still my _dream_. Oh, and I really didn't mean for it to turn out this way, but this chapter is slightly... Arthur-bashing-y. I'm sorry, I'll make up for it later. Chapter titles shall now be song names, as well. :) It has been decided. The songs themselves have nothing to do with the story, just the titles.

Many thanks to: **BlueItem** (my cohort and idea manager) and **Nataeiy1 + Speedy Speck** (my betas. Extra thanks to **SS** for her help in getting over my American spelling issues :D)

* * *

Arthur was swearing again.

This time it wasn't even Merlin's fault. Really, it wasn't. Not that it would have mattered had it been or not, for the young prince would still be in the same position as he was in now, which was throwing a tantrum in his chambers, and yelling at Merlin for being incompetent.

"Really, Merlin, you would think that after all this time you would manage to at least _clean my armour _correctly. You really must be the worst servant anyone could ever ask for," he admonished, glaring at the gauntlet in his hand. Merlin just sighed and tried his best to ignore him. He knew that gauntlet was spotless, but it didn't matter; if the prince wanted an outlet for his anger Merlin's handiwork would be the first to be subject to it.

"Well then, if I do such awful work, why don't you just do it yourself, you prat?" Arthur glared daggers at him whilst he kept his eyes frozen on the shield in his lap. "So what's going on with the Lady Grafton and her daughter?"

The prince sighed and tossed the gauntlet back into the heap of metal. "They're supposed to be arriving in Camelot this afternoon. Which means I have to play babysitter for the rest of the day. Don't they realize that I have more important things to do with my time?"

Merlin scoffed. "Like what? Hunt? You've already had your training session with the guards for the day before the heat set in. You've got nothing _but_ free time for the rest of the day."

"Be quiet, Merlin!" he seethed. It probably wasn't the greatest idea to be snide when the prince was in such a foul mood, but it had become so natural that Merlin had to fight the urge to automatically retort. "Besides, what are _you_ doing for the rest of the day?" He sounded a bit too hopeful for the young warlock's liking.

"Don't even think about it," he immediately shot at him. "I am not going to take over your responsibilities. And I am helping Gwen move all the storage things out of the rooms where the knights will be staying. I will be busy until the dinner banquet. You'll just have to survive without me until then."

His highness groaned like the spoiled child he was and turned away. Merlin had to smirk at his antics. _Who needed a babysitter?_

"I just don't see why _I_ of all people have to watch some noble's brat."

* * *

"What did you say about a brat?" Merlin quipped as he watched the Lady Grafton and her daughter stride into the main hall. Arthur's jaw was locked tight and his eyes were glued to the young girl with rapt interest. She was, in fact, not a child at all. She was quite the lady, and very much a well-trained noble. She held herself with an air of dignity; eyes bearing straight forward, chin held high, and a confident black hair lightly dusted her shoulders, and her dark gown flowed like mist behind her, making her seem almost compared to her mother who walked beside her, every bit in contrast with the beauty. It made Merlin suspicious.

"She is...not exactly what I was expecting," Arthur said, not glancing in any direction other than hers. "I suppose it won't be such a burden to escort her around for the day."

Merlin chuckled lightly. "I thought you didn't want to be stuck with some noble's brat."

Arthur didn't take the jibe. He didn't even seem to register what his servant had just said and didn't look away until his father began to speak.

"Welcome, ladies Maud and Edith, to Camelot," said Uther. Both women bowed deeply, fanning their dresses about their feet.

"Thank you, milord, for being so generous as to share your home with us," said the head Lady Grafton. The light streaming in through the windows gave her skin a sickly yellow-green hue. Her large green eyes darted about, taking in everything at once. She looked just on the cusp of being fiendish, but then she smiled, and it faded.

But something was still very off about her, Merlin could tell. Everything about her was simply too strange. It made him feel uneasy. The daughter turned away from the king for a moment to glance over her shoulder at Arthur and wink playfully.

"You're definitely going have your hands full watching _her_," Merlin said.

Arthur smiled back at her before turning to Merlin in a rush. "Don't you have somewhere you have to _be_?" he spat.

The young warlock glared and backed away through the crowd of people. He did need to get a move on if he was going to be of any help to Guinevere. Slipping by the nobles as discretely as he could, he fled out of the door and down the corridor.

Gwen was there to greet him with a warm smile and a pile of drapes.

* * *

Lady Edith was indeed very beautiful, Arthur noted as they strolled into the courtyard at the centre of the castle. The summer heat was intense in direct contact, but made for a nice warmth whilst in the shade. He allowed the lady to walk before him and elegantly turn to sit upon a stone slab before he took a seat beside her.

"It was very kind of you to spend your day escorting me about," she said shyly. Lashes dusted over her her pale cheeks when she blinked. He smiled charmingly at her and she giggled quietly.

"It was no hardship, by any means," he said. "In fact, I feel honoured to be privileged enough to spend the entirety of the evening in your company."

That won him another soft laugh. He knew exactly how to woo the ladies when he wanted, a trait amongst many that he prided himself in.

"Tell me, prince Arthur. Do you know much about the subjects that work under you?" Edith was now swinging her legs idly and had her arms folded neatly in her lap. Her eyes flashed up to his for a moment before darting away. It was cute how shy she was. Actually, this attitude came much as a surprise to him. She had seemed too straightforward back in the main hall. Not that he was complaining. It was a nice change to having to be around the very brazen Morgana all time.

He'd almost forgot to respond to her question.

"I know quite a lot about my subjects," he lied. "It is my duty to care about their well-being, after all."

"Hmn," she hummed. A coy smile played upon her lips. "How very admirable of you." Silence spread comfortably, and she shifted closer so that her arm rested alongside his own. Her skin was cold, and Arthur removed his cloak to rest it over her shoulders. "Do you know much of your manservant?" she asked quite suddenly.

Arthur was taken aback. "You mean Merlin?" he asked uncertainly.

"Is that his name?" she laughed. For some reason he felt as if something was off here, but he chose to ignore the feeling. "I was just curious, he seemed so strange when I was watching you two earlier. He doesn't seem to obey you very well, does he?"

He huffed. "No, he doesn't. He's can be quite insufferable sometimes." He completely missed the fact that he had no idea when she could have seen them together other than the main hall. She couldn't have heard them talking from the distance they had been, but the thought vanished the instant when she nudged closer to him.

The corner of her mouth was tugged back, making her smile crooked. "Some things are a constant no matter where you go," she said with a tight chuckle.

"Do you know someone like him?" he asked.

"Oh, yes. Remarkably alike." She tilted her head up to look deep into his eyes. "But I've never met anyone quite like you. You're very...unique." She placed a hand on his chest and he began to lean forward to her face. The motion was familiar, routine. He knew all the right moves.

He wasn't really expecting the hard shove that sent him reeling backwards. Or the loud crack that sounded as his head collided with the wall.

Or the laughter that echoed in his mind until it he faded into unconsciousness.

* * *

They spent many hours clearing out those rooms, but by the time they had finished there was no doubt that those rooms would be fit for royalty. The sun was setting heavily over the western mountains, and the oncoming night was pressing over the sky with a leisurely haste. It had been a long day, and he was looking forward to the moment that he could go home and just collapse onto his bed.

"We did a fine job," she said, patting a pillow into place. "I think we deserve a nice quiet rest for the night, don't you?"

He shook his head wearily before replying, "Unfortunately I have to go to the banquet tonight. It will be a while before I get that chance."

Gwen gave him a sympathetic look. "I would help if I could. You've been such a big help to me."

"That's all right. I was glad to help. It's not like trailing after Arthur and Lady Edith would have been much of a pleasure, anyhow." He made a face and Gwen couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, if you don't mind, then, I could finish making up the bed if you would please get some fresh towels for the bathroom. Then you will be free to go." She nodded towards the chamber door and started to roll back the blankets.

"Of course, your highness," Merlin said, bowing grandly and with one arm swept out. "Whatever you wish."

He didn't miss the flying pillow aimed at his face.

Luckily for him the linen closet with the extra towels was only a few halls away. The smile on his face was still bright and merry as he made his way down the passage. Gwen had the uncanny ability to make him happy. Something about her personality, her valiant optimism and kind-hearted nature, was just infectious.

The closet was only one turn away now, and he jogged slightly to speed his pace. If he could get done with everything here fast enough, he might just have time to take a short nap before the banquet. And wouldn't that be nice? That thought alone was enough to add that extra bounce to his step and he opened the door enthusiastically.

The towels were easy enough to find, after he dug through the masses of bed sheets and drapes, and he piled his arms full of the soft cloths and shut the door with a hard shove from his foot. When he turned from the closet he wasn't really expecting anyone to be in his path of walking.

Or more of a door, really.

The towels provided enough cushioning from the hard smack of the wood in his face, but did little to protect his posterior from hitting the hard stone floor. He was sent back, legs and arms flailing, straight to the ground. And the person that caused his descent was giving him the same doe-eyed expression as he was giving her.

"Morgana? What's wrong?" Merlin asked, taking in her appearance hastily. She was hugging a deep green cloak around her tightly and her dark hair was loose and wild-looking.

With a quivering voice she asked, "Merlin?" as if she was unsure it was him, despite the fact she was looking right at him.

"Um, yes," he said tentatively. He rose to his feet steadily, grabbing towels as he went. "I was just getting some towels for the guest room. I'll, uh," he paused to look at her unsettled face, "just...get going, then."

He barely made it past her when her fingers reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him back around.

"What is it?" he asked, getting extremely worried. "Are you all right? Should I call Gaius? Or Gwen?"

For a moment she said nothing, instead she just stared into his eyes, then she smiled slightly and let her hand slide from his shoulder.

"I-It was nothing," she promised, flashing him a small, reassuring grin. "I was just being silly. Never mind me. I'm sorry for knocking you over." When he didn't leave she added, "It was just an overreaction to a dream. Sorry for startling you.

"Are you sure I shouldn't go get Gwen?"

"No, that's quite all right. She's going to be staying here later, anyway. There's no need to worry her."

Merlin nodded and slowly began to retrace his steps back to the cleaned room. He could feel Morgana's gaze on him with every step he took. It was more than a bit unnerving.

"Merlin!" she called once he'd almost reached the end of the hall.

He whipped around. "Yes?"

"Maybe it would be best if Gwen came sooner. Would you mind telling her to come quickly?"

"Yes, ma'am. On my way." It was really worrying him how Morgana was acting. She always got a bit strange from time to time, but this was downright creepy.

Maybe Gwen would know what to do. He had better hurry.

* * *

Once Merlin had left the room, Gwen went to retrieve the pillow by the door. Banquets were never any fun, she knew from experience, and she did not envy Merlin for having to stay up the entire evening for one. Morgana was still feeling drained from a rough night of nightmares and she was to stay nearby in case she was put into any further distress. If she had a choice, she would have stayed by her side the entire day, but this had to be done. All she could do was try to get it done quickly. She was eternally grateful for all the help Merlin had been today. Who knows how long this would have taken without him?

She slipped the little pillow back amongst the much bigger and embroidered ones. There, the bed was complete. On a whim she sat and gently leaned back against the plush bedding. Her body sunk deep into the mattress; it was like being lost is a sea of fluff! Just one of these pillows made up half her bed at home. Brown eyes closed and she inhaled the fresh sent of the sheets.

"It wouldn't do if someone where to see a servant loafing around when they're supposed to be hard at work."

Gwen bolted upright and stared wide-eyed at the door. A deep burning flush rose up her neck, warming her cheeks and ears.

"Lady Edith! I-I'm so sorry. I-I was j-just-" she stammered, immediately making to move off the bed. Why had she done that? It was not her place to lounge around on lavish furniture. What had she been thinking? She was so embarrassed.

Edith padded softly over to the edge of the bed; her smile was elusive and dangerous. It made Gwen freeze. Something about this person was just very wrong. She didn't know what to do, and her voice wouldn't come to her aid. Her throat felt dry and constricted.

The lady's hand swept over the fine satin sheets. "So nice," she said. "It wouldn't be so bad to lie in a bed like this for a very long time, would it? Perhaps even forever." Her eyes flashed up, and Gwen didn't see an iris. They were just black and cold. Her skin crawled.

"I-I should really get back to wo-ork," Gwen squeaked, willing her body back into motion, but was unable to do so. She stayed, perfectly still, even as Edith slid closer and placed a hand upon her shoulder. Her body was gently pushed back down on the bed, and all she could see were those two black eyes, drilling into her very being.

Even as the woman moved away, Gwen found her body unresponsive to her commands. She stared blankly at the ceiling. What was Edith doing? She could faintly hear a soft sort of chant, but it sounded muffled and distant. More like a bird's song in the forest. Black spots began to impede her vision, and then there was nothing but darkness. She was immobile, and blind, and utterly terrified at her own helplessness.

Right before her hearing too fell away, she heard a very quiet gasp of someone to her left.

"Lady Edith? Gwen?"

It was Merlin.

* * *

What was going on?

Merlin stared at Edith suspiciously, glancing from her to Gwen. Gwen's eyes were closed, and she was breathing deeply. He hadn't been gone that long, did she really fallen asleep? It was very unusual for Gwen to do something like this. And the way Edith was looking at him, dark eyes heated like burning coals, was doing little to ease his mind.

"You always manage to ruin things, don't you?" she hissed, head raised high. She marched over to him, pausing for a moment by his side. He could almost _hear_ the steady smirk in her voice as she said, "But I'm sure this time will turn out differently. After all, she was you friend." She walked away.

The thudding of his own heart became much heavier as he looked back to Gwen. What did Edith mean, she _was_ his friend? Forgetting the towels as they dropped to the floor he made it over to his friend's side.

"Gwen?" he called, jogging her shoulder gently. When she didn't respond he tried a little harder. "Gwen!" His fingers went to her eyes, lifting up the fragile lid. All he saw was black. No distinguishing difference between iris and pupil. Oh no, what happened?

Edith.

He was off and racing down the hall before he had enough time to finish the thought process running through his mind. Edith must have done this, but why? Why Gwen? She must be a sorceress. Did that mean she was going after Camelot? Uther? Arthur? His heart stopped. She was supposed to be with Arthur. And if she was there, then where was he? Oh, this was very _not_ good. Couldn't he stay out of trouble for _one day_?

There was no trace of her as he traversed the passageways. Where could she have run off to? He must have been running like a madman. Surely he would have caught up to her by now? He slowed to a trot as he entered the courtyard. It was stiflingly hot in the late afternoon sun, and his clothes immediately felt entirely too heavy. It was a strange sort of fuzzy feeling in his head, a mixture of the heat and adrenaline, and it made it hard to think.

That might be why it took him a moment to recognize the prince, slumped against the stone courtyard wall.

"Arthur!" the warlock yelled, at once feeling terrified and elated. Elated because the prince looked perfectly unharmed; terrified because that was exactly how Gwen looked. Had Edith done the same thing to him as she had to the young maid?

Not bothering with gentleness Merlin gripped Arthur by both shoulders and shook hard.

Arthur immediately came to, tense and wide-eyed. He looked ready to kill. "_Merlin_?" he asked, rage evident in his sleepy voice. "What do you think you're doing!"

The servant just looked into his bright blue eyes before sighing in relief. "Thank goodness she hadn't gotten to you too."

"What the bloody hell are you raving about?" Arthur griped, pushing the boy away and staggering to his feet. He wavered unsteadily for a moment, gaining his bearings. "I feel like I got beamed in the head with something." He rubbed a spot on the back of his head and grimaced. "Maybe I did," he added as an afterthought.

Then something seemed to occur to him.

"Merlin, where's Lady Edith?" He whirled around. "And what time is it?" He sounded panicked.

"Arthur, there's something more important going on right now. Edith is a sorceress," Merlin gushed, trying to say it fast enough so that he would not get interrupted. "She's done something to Gwen, and now she's run off."

Arthur's face darkened into utter seriousness. "Are you sure about this?

"Of course I am! Do you really think I'd say anything if I wasn't?" Merlin retorted sharply.

"Where is Gwen now?"

"She's on the bed in the rooms we were clearing."

The prince spared him a nod and took off towards the scene of the crime. Merlin shakily stood, his legs showing the strain from his sudden sprint earlier. He needed to keep searching. And he should warn the king. Not that he would listen to a servant's words. If Edith tried to go to the banquet he needed to be there in order to make sure nothing fate-altering would happen. But what if it wasn't Edith? For the first time he considered the other threat in the castle. If Edith was a sorceress, then what did that make Maud?

He needed to get to that banquet.

* * *

People were still filing into the dining hall when Merlin walked through the doors. He had made it in time before the festivities begun, which would work greatly to his advantage. He stood just beyond the doors, away from the bustling bodies, and tried to distinguish faces in the dim torch light. Uther was sitting at the head of the table, drumming his fingers in that impatient way of his. As if everyone was just wasting his valuable time.

Merlin fought down the wave of indignation that rose to the surface.

He knew that Maud was rather short, and tried to follow every petite woman that passed him by, but after several minutes with no success, he began to get impatient. He started to weave in and out of the crowd, stopping on various sides, trying to find a better vantage point. Then, out of the corner of his eye he glanced yellow-green skin. He had to do a double take, but there was no mistaking her. Maud walked into the room on the far left side.

He made his move.

Large eyes turned to his sudden motion in an instant, and then she too took flight. Shouts of anger flared as she knocked into people, fighting against the stream of them towards the mouth of the room. Merlin was right on her heels until one particularly rounded belly sent him back. The ground lost in those few moments he knew was dire, and if he was ever going to make it back up he would have to double his speed.

Legs already straining with effort, he chased on; through the winding stone walkways and up flights of stairs. His burning lungs prevented him from shouting out at her. It was only when they reached the same floor as Gwen that the ascent stopped, levelling out once again. The panic was welling up again. Was she going after Gwen? Why would she? Maybe she planned on using the poor defenseless girl as a shield? Anger flowed through his already fiery veins. He would not let her use his friend like that!

Before he realized it was happening an entire row of torches had been ripped off their holders on the wall and were falling in a flaming rain to the floor. Maud screamed aloud, arms high above to guard her head. She did not stop, but the scream was enough to alert the only other person in the hall. Up ahead, Arthur came bursting out of the room and was running towards them

Maud took her only escape route down a corridor on her left. Both Merlin and Arthur were hot on her trail. Further down the hall, something bright flashed. Maud was getting closer and closer, and Merlin noted that if she didn't turn now she was going to slam right into the reflective glass. When she didn't, he was overcome with a delighted delirium.

That feeling faded when he saw her pass right through it.

Both he and Arthur skidded to a halt just before meeting with the mirror's surface; their images mimicked their shocked faces perfectly.

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you for reading. Feedback is _greatly _appreciated. Seriously, you guys. I _love_ hearing from you all.


	3. I: Right Before My Eyes

**Title: **Mirror, Mirror

**Arc I: **Summer

**Chapter Two: **Right Before My Eyes (Cage the Elephant)

**Started:** 08/03/10 10:06:35 PM (Picked up again on: 07/02/11 5:18:43 PM)

**Story Quote: **What hadn't he tried? There must be a spell somewhere in that bloody book that could help him. He just had to _find_ it.

**A/N:** **BlueItem** and I have been working out scenes for this story, and it turns out a lot of them are turning slashy. So, I'm changing the genre to Romance. To those of you who do like slash, rejoice. To those who don't, I'm sorry, but I hope you stick with this story. It's not going to be a romance-centered fic. It's going to be a slow (glacial) building Merlin and Arthur slash, though it begins with very mild Arthur/Gwen. Despite what side you're on, I hope you enjoy.

Many thanks to: **BlueItem **(my cohort and idea manager), **Speedy Speck** (my actual beta, who helps enormously with getting over my American spelling and other various grammar fails), **KotoriK **for doing the cutest commission for this story (that a link can be found for on my profile), and to _all those_ who reviewed, alerted, and favorited this story.

Just a note, here. I may choose to up the rating to M for later chapters. I'm not sure how adult they may become, but I just thought I should warn you all, just in case.

* * *

The lake was cold.

Not that this fact, under any other circumstances, was all that strange, but today was different. The lake wasn't just cold; it was _freezing over._ And what made it even more unusual was that it was freezing, starting from the centre. In the high winter, it was not unheard of for the edges of the lake to be frozen with a hair-thin sheet of frost, but the ice would always break under the tiniest of pressures.

Only it was not high winter, it was midsummer. The heat that permeated the air was grossly thick, making everything hazy and surreal. Even the animals were silent in the trees, unwilling to put forth the extra effort that would be needed to call out. A great stag meandered slowly from the undergrowth with his head held proudly high. His large black eyes surveyed the area with practiced vigilance. Seeing no initial danger, he stooped to the water's edge and began to drink.

The ice was growing, silently and startlingly fast. Solid was indistinguishable from liquid, the same silvery blue colour for both water and not. The stag continued to drink, unaware of the danger approaching until it was too late. Sharp spikes of pain stabbed at his nose and he tried to retreat, falling back on his haunches with an awkward crash. Shards of frozen water protruded from his fleshy muzzle, dripping little blood diamonds. The stag bounded away as the water solidified, and then stopped still. For a moment more, there was no movement, no sound.

And then the ice shattered with roaring cracks.

This time the breaks initiated from the water's rim, spiralling like little intricate webs along the surface. They met at the centre, the faintest and closest creating a perfect ring, like a bulls-eye marker. Something under the water pressed against them, slowly pushing them aside as it breached the surface. Shards dug into the fingers, embedding into flesh, and then into the skin of an arm, but were unable to penetrate the thick white fabric that covered the shoulder. The being crept out of the frozen prison, inch by painful inch; little slices of ice lingering in the skin of the escaping captive, unwilling to let go.

The boy was now kneeling on the surface, shoulders rising and falling in rapid succession with his laboured breaths. All the little cuts on his body were spilling forth black tears around him, staining silver ice and white cloth. A single drop splashed onto the body of the blue jewel lodged into the back of his hand. He looked up to the ruins of a stone castle in the distance, and he smiled.

Yes, he was _finally_ free. After all this time, he could flex his body to do his will, and he curled his fingers into his palm in proof of that. Behind him, the circle of ice was falling away, bit by bit, and sinking low into the depths of the lake. He struggled to stand upright; his skin dry and raw from parting with the surface. Not that he really minded. It was a nice sensation; to _feel._ He desperately wanted more of it and began ripping the ice from his too pale skin.

The little inked fragments danced around his feet as they fell. He pulled the largest piece, from his forearm, out with a sharp tug and dropped it to the ground where it cracked spectacularly. The little bits of mirror reflected back at him, and he gazed down at them through the clumps of drenched white hair that hung in his golden eyes. He liked the way he couldn't get a clear view of himself through the black stains on the glassy ice. He held his arm over the biggest parted segment: the one that reflected his eyes.

The blood distorted the image beyond recognition.

* * *

"Tell me I didn't see what I thought I just saw," Arthur said, staring at his and Merlin reflections in astonishment.

There was no way that just happened. She had walked through a _mirror._ He placed his hand against the glass warily. Nothing happened after the initial touch, nor after he rubbed it over. It looked like just a normal mirror. He looked behind it. Nothing. Then how...

He looked over to Merlin, who was still in the same position he'd stopped in. His eyes were trained on the mirror with a look of disbelief.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted, trying to get the servant's attention. "What's wrong with you? You're acting like you've never seen magic before."

His jaw worked up and down for a moment with no sounds being brought forth, and then he said, "That wasn't...I thought I just saw..."

Oh, he _couldn't_ be serious. "Come on, Merlin!" Arthur hissed. "I can't believe you're acting like such a girl just because of a little magic." Actually, it was more than a little weird to see Merlin react this way. It wasn't like it was the most amazing spell he'd ever seen preformed.

The servant continued to gape at the mirror for a moment before turning to Arthur with a heated glare. "I'm _not_ acting like a girl. Don't tell me you didn't just see that!" He gestured to the mirror with a raving hand.

"Of course I did! How could I miss someone running through a bloody mirror?" Arthur shouted back. "But this isn't the time to be awed by it! We've got to do something!"

"That's not—and just what do you propose we do?" Merlin's jaw worked back and forth as he ground his teeth. "It's not like we can just chase after her!"

He paused for a moment.

"There's a room behind this wall. Maybe she slipped through to the other side. Come on."

Both dashed through the stone hallways to the other side. There was nothing. In the room there was only the unoccupied chamber. One of the many Gwen and Merlin had been preparing earlier that day.

"What now?" Merlin asked.

"Can you do nothing but ask worthless questions? Try being _useful_, Merlin. Think." Arthur ran a hand through his hair. "We have to find out where she went. And how to go after her. But right now, what we _really_ need to do is find Edith. She should—" The servant stared at him blankly. His heart dropped into his stomach for a moment. Gwen was alone. Edith was still in the castle somewhere.

"You idiot, what if Edith goes back after Gwen? Lady Graf-_Maud_ could have just been a distraction!"

"It wasn't _my_ job to keep tabs on her. It was _yours_," Merlin immediately defended. His eyes went wide. "Oh God. Gwen."

He ground his teeth. "Go get Gaius. Then alert the guard. I'll check on Gwen. _Go!_"

The prince didn't wait for a reply and took back off down the hall. First he had to check to make sure the maid was alright. Once he was sure of her status he would report to his father and join the guard. If Edith was still in Camelot, he was going to find her. And if she wasn't, he'd just have to find another way to get to her. He wasn't going to let her get away.

Again.

* * *

"The very prince of Camelot, allowing himself to be blinded by a pretty face whilst the witches were free to do as they wished behind his back... I expected better of you, Arthur. I _demand_ better of you. How could you let this happen?"

Arthur bowed his head and grit his teeth as his father paced before him. While he would not deny his own falling in this, how was it any different, or any worse, than allowing said witches into their Kingdom to begin with, let alone allowing them food and shelter?

"Then what would you have me do, Father? I know nothing about them that could aid in their capture. We can assume their identities are false—I never have even heard of the Grafton House before their time here—so that can be of no help. The only clue I have is the mirror. I need more."

Uther stopped his pacing to look at him with a hard expression. "The mirror? What about it?"

"I saw Maud disappear though it. That's how she escaped."

He shook his head. "What of Edith?"

Arthur dropped his eyes to the floor. "She was not seen to have, but I would assume so. The guards reported no one with her appearance leaving the castle."

"Never _assume_, Arthur." The prince looked up as his father began to pace once more. "If you did not see her flee through it, then who is to say she does not roam the halls at this very moment? She may have somehow deceived the guard and hid in the lower town. We must _find_ her. Search every home a hundred times over if you must."

"But why would she hide in the city when she has the mirror?"

"Because she knows that we know about it, now! She's smart—apparently more so than you. She won't go back there. We need to flush her out. And you, being the one to allow her escape, shall not rest until she is brought in. I want you at the head of the guard at every possible moment."

"What? It's not just my fault! You—" The absolute fury in the King's eyes made him hold his tongue.

"I _what_, Arthur?"

"...you might be overlooking the real issue. One of your subjects has already been a victim of Edith's work, and wasting manpower by searching the entire village when there is a good chance she's not even there while we have better leads to follow up upon doesn't make any sense."

"What if that was her plan the entire time? Gwen, the maid, she is important to you?" Uther questioned tersely, lips tight and eyes narrow. The tips of Arthur's ears began to burn.

"Well, I—"

"She is your friend. And that is specifically why she was targeted, don't you see that? Edith is _trying_ to distract you, and by attacking her, your attention is divided." Uther shook his head, and the moment he squared his jaw Arthur knew that what he was about to say he wasn't going to like. "I forbid you from seeing her. I can't have you too caught up in one person when you need to focus on the safety of the city. Do _not_ argue with me, Arthur," he added sharply, "as your King, you are to do as I command. As Prince, it is your duty to protect the people. We cannot allow this threat to go any further. I will expect you to report back to me with everything you discover."

"You're being unreasonable! I am perfectly capable to doing what is asked of me while still—" he ended abruptly, for the last time. There was no point in arguing any further with him on this issue. No matter what he said, nothing would make him think otherwise. He would just have to find a different way of getting around the orders. Arthur was sure Uther was wrong, but now was not the time to fight him.

At his son's silence, Uther stood still. Both knew who had won this dispute. "And I want the mirror destroyed," he ordered.

Arthur sighed. Blinded by his own fear, the King was being absolutely ridiculous! Yes, let's destroy the only clue, and then when nothing becomes of the search they'll have nothing. Brilliant! He tried to state this as civilly as he could, but his frustrations were running high and his patience thin.

"The mirror is our only link. We cannot simply destroy it. It may later prove of great value to us, sire. I have already stationed guards to it. They are to be relieved and replaced every third hour. It would be in our best interests to keep the mirror intact for the time being, if for nothing more than just in case. It would be mad of us to wave the possibility that it _might_ prove worth it."

The King's eyes could have borne holes though steel, but Arthur held his ground. He knew he was right on this, even if his Father didn't believe him to be.

"Fine. But it is under your supervision, Arthur. And anything that befalls Camelot because of it is on _your_ head."

"Yes, sire."

* * *

Merlin draped his neckerchief over the face of the sleeping guard. It was such a pain to take these guys out every time he needed to get by them. And it was almost pathetic how often he needed to get rid of them and just how easily it had become. With all his visits down to the Great Dragon he had needed a better diversion than the runaway dice or bouts of flame from the torches, so he had practiced and practiced a simple sleeping charm to cast on them, and it worked very well, if not for very long. About a half hour at most, but could be broken sooner should he so choose.

Very handy.

The rag over the guards face was just a precaution. Should the guard begin to awaken, Merlin would have enough time to negate his spell before the guard could get the rag off and see, as opposed to just opening his eyes. But he would still have to be very careful. The charm was not very strong, and any loud noises or sudden movements could easily awaken them, just as in normal sleep. He had found this out the hard way, once. Ended up having to knock the guard out with the heel of his boot when he'd tried to grab it as Merlin passed. Had the mark on his forehead the next day at training, yet couldn't remember how it had gotten there.

Sidestepping over the guard's sprawled legs, Merlin dove into the bag at his feet and retrieved the heavy tome that was his spell book. By this time it was late into the night; Arthur had been searching the city with the guard ever since his meeting with Uther. In that time, Gaius had looked over Gwen and came to the conclusion that her catatonic state was most definitely caused by magic.

Wonderful.

And without a clue as to how to cure it, Merlin had resorted to trying to go after the source of the problem. The old physician had done his best to try and dredge up all the information he had on symptoms such as Gwen's, but so far nothing had proven useful. Currently, Gaius was in his rooms, sifting through all the tomes he could even half remember reading something useful in, once upon a time. But nothing had come of it so far, and Merlin was getting impatient. He could spend countless hours sifting through the books, but this way was faster, he was sure of it.

He just needed to find the right spell to get him through.

Outside the window further down the corridor was a pure darkness. The sun had fallen behind the mountains and the moon had risen to take its place. And while it was relatively silent within the stretch of hall itself, the murmur of life in the city below could still be heard. Arthur was down there, leading the knights throughout the city in search of the sorceress. They were probably wasting their time, but Merlin knew better than to say anything. Besides, it was easier this way. Not having to worry about them in the castle made his job all the more easier.

He started by going through all the spells that could be used for unlocking. Not much luck there. He flipped through it some more, tried spells used to turn solid matter into something softer. That one worked, sort of, just not in the way he had hoped. At all instead of the spells working _on_ the mirror, they were reflected straight back upon himself. He fell to the floor, unable to move. His body felt like goo and refused to respond to his will. For a moment he was terrified. What did he just do to himself? Did he do something permanent? What if he was stuck like this until someone found him? How would he explain himself?

The guard shifted in his forced slumber, then lay still once more.

Merlin tried his best to compose himself. Alright, he could fix this. No worries. Maybe if he could just remember the spell he'd just used...something Latin. Right. He could do this.

Oh, was that his finger twitching? And his toe was itching as well. If he focused, he could almost move his hand. Oh good, the spell was wearing off. That was convenient. Not that he couldn't get rid of the spell on his own if he really set his mind to it, but it was a relief to know he needn't worry it.

The effects of his conjure wore off after a time, until he was able to fully sit up. His limbs still felt rubbery and numb, but he was just happy to be able to move again. That was an experience he never wanted to repeat any time soon. The mirror reflected back at him his own image, glaring balefully. The guard snored on.

So what should he try now? He slid forward to grab the book off the floor. Maybe a spell could be found for seeing something invisible, or revealing hidden objects? Or maybe ridding the magic from the mirror itself? Was there such a spell, even? He dove back into the pages and got back to work.

It was late into the night before he finally gave in. He'd been through two guard switches (pain in the _arse_ it was, to make sure the current guard was awake before the replacement could notice anything wrong, and then explaining that he would be a good person and not tell anyone he'd fallen asleep on shift. And if he felt slightly guilty about receiving their hurried thanks, he tried not to let it show on his face). Merlin stuffed the book back into his bag filled with laundry and sat against the wall. What hadn't he tried? There must be a spell somewhere in that bloody book that could help him. He just had to _find_ it.

He looked sidelong into the mirror. His eyes were beginning to feel much too heavy, and his blinks lagged for longer and longer. And while he knew he should, he just couldn't feel the motivation to move at that given moment. Alright, just for a little while, he'd rest his eyes.

When he dreamt, he dreamt of darkness.

No matter which way he turned, or which way he walked, he never got any further. When he tried to call out to someone, anyone, he realized he had not voice. Or perhaps the darkness ate his voice, along with the sound of his footsteps. Or maybe he had gone deaf. Terror seized him. If for nothing else, he wished that he was not alone at that moment. Was this what being dead feels like?

And then he was back in the corridor. His eyes were wide, and staring at his reflection in the mirror. Which was staring back. Only it _wasn't_ him. This doppelganger's appearance only bore the slightest resemblance to his own. White-grey hair, longer than his own, dripped water around his feet, and yet never reached the grey stones. He was adorned in blue and silver robes, sharply juxtaposing Merlin's own shabby attire. The reflection stared at the still sitting Merlin from where he stood with blazing golden brown eyes. The colour of magic. The copy grinned.

His eyes flashed a cold, dead grey.

Merlin clamped his eyes shut and listened to the sound of his own heart, harsh and loud. It wasn't real. It was just a dream! But he fell into the darkness once again; he could still feel those eyes watching him.

He was awoken by a loud voice and a smack to the back of his head.

The slumbering warlock's eyes flashed open and immediately found the steely blue of Arthur's.

"Pardon _me_, princess. Did I disturb your nap?" Merlin didn't know what to say. He was still reeling as the Prince woke up the charmed guardsman. The startled man looked around uncertainly, then leapt to his feet and saluted, an embarrassed flush colouring his face. "Really Haroff, I expected such laziness and disregard from Merlin, but not you." If possible, he turned a darker red, this time in shame.

The guilt hit Merlin squarely in the stomach.

Arthur looked like he was debating saying something else, but shook his head. "Go home, get some rest. It's been a long day for all of us. Just keep in mind I won't stand for such behaviour in the future."

Haroff saluted. "Thank you, sire." Then he turned and left.

"Leon, I want you to take over this post for the next hour, until the shift change. Think you can handle it?"

The Knight smiled wearily. "Of course, sire."

"Good man," Arthur said, clapping him on the shoulder. Merlin smiled. Maybe Arthur wasn't in as horrible of a mood as he had originally thought. He yawned loudly and stretched. Which, apparently, was the wrong thing to do. Arthur whirled around, rage coming back fully fledged. "Will you get off your _arse_ and do something useful for once? What is that?" he demanded, pointing to the laundry bag on which Merlin's book remained hidden. "My laundry? The laundry you were supposed to have gotten done _last night?_"

No, not last night. _To_night. He'd gotten them—he looked around the corridor. The first rays of light were just flitting through the open windows.

So yeah, last night.

"Unbelievable." Arthur said, shaking his head. "I can't deal with you now, Merlin, nor do I want to see hide or hair of you until I've gotten some sleep." He then proceeded to smack Merlin on the backside of the head once more before stalking off.

"Did you see that?" Merlin besought Leon. "I was only trying to help."

"I'm sure you were. But you would be irate, too, had you been up the entire night to come back to your servant and guard asleep at your feet."

"But Haroff didn't get a smack upside the head!"

"Haroff also isn't the Prince's friend," Leon said with a grin.

Merlin glared at him while rubbing the sore spot on his head. He mumbled, "Bloody prat...sometimes I wonder how he'd like it if I actually left."

"Now, don't. You know how he is. When he's rested, he'll be expecting your presence, same as always. And he wouldn't want anyone else."

"You're right. After all, who wouldn't love a smile like this first thing in the morning?" Merlin grinned the biggest, corniest grin he could, and the Knight gave a snort of bemusement.

"Right. Now, off with you. Best not test the Prince's patience should he come back."

Merlin nodded slightly and then gave the knight a short wave before heading down the hall. Leon smiled calmly after him. That boy was a sodding idiot at times, but his heart was in the right place. He looked back to the mirror behind him and came up short.

Merlin stared back at him with eyes of gold.

He looked back behind himself to the empty hallway.

Then back to the mirror, where all he saw was his own alarmed expression.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for reading. All feedback is greatly appreciated! You guys really have no idea. My WORLD revolves around just a moment of your time.


	4. I: Touching The Enemy

**Title: **Mirror, Mirror

**Arc I:** Summer

**Chapter Three: **Touching The Enemy (Tub Ring)

**Started: **07/20/11 9:36:21 PM

**Story Quote:** "And heed this: if you know what is good for you, then you will smash that mirror into a million pieces. The maid's life be damned. More lives will be lost than hers should you fail to listen to me."

**Author's Note:** For some reason the middle of this gave me some real big issues. Unexpectedly, Morgana's part. It was a real challenge to get past that. Also, this was bugging the crap out of me, but in which instance does Merlin wear his red shirt and blue neckerchief? I can't seem to find a direct episode for the life of me. I thought it was in season 2, but not much luck. If someone could clarify this for me, I would be very grateful.

**Bonus Note:** Sorry for those that got the alert that this chapter was updated twice. FanFiction, for some reason, wasn't letting me replace the original post to the updated so that I could insert some missing page breaks. So I took the chapter down and redid it.

Many thanks to: **BlueItem **(my cohort and idea manager) and **Speedy Speck **(my beta), to all those who stuck with the story despite my leaving it for a while, and to all those who have just joined in. Avery _**HUGE**_ thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter. I do believe it is your fantastic feedback that has gotten me so pumped to work on this fic!

**Story Art:**

http:/ /kotorik (dot) deviantart (dot) com/art/Chibi-Sale-5-MerlinMerlin – 174939256?q = favby%3AmysticXmarker%2F10456397&qo=1 (Just remove the spaces and fill in the parenthesis)

* * *

True to his word, the Prince saw neither hide nor hair of Merlin until he had slept. And a good three days later, Arthur was spending his every waking moment in search of a ghost, and Merlin was trying to find a cure. After being caught at the mirror, he hadn't gone back to it. Instead, he had been with Gaius, trying to find some...not so conventional potions that could possibly cure Gwen. At this point, even Gaius wasn't forbidding Merlin's meddling; or at least, not as strongly as usual. So long as he kept the book out of sight at all times and the potions wouldn't do anything to cause attention to himself.

"Hey Gaius, do we have any dried corpse lungs?" Merlin asked from his perch on the stairs.

The old physician sighed and looked up from his research.

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, I think I might have found something here that could work. But the main ingredient is 'dried corpse lungs'."

"First off, to acquire the ingredient would mean that the subject would _have_ to be dead already. 'Corpse lungs' is an oxymoron. Second, do they need to be human?"

Merlin gave him a disgusted face before rereading the text. "It doesn't say they _need_ to be."

"Good. Then you can go to the butcher to get the lungs. And if he asks, you can say they're for me."

"Would he buy that?"

"I hope so."

The boy shook his head, but said nothing as he left.

* * *

Things had gone well enough with the butcher. The man who ran the shop was a hopeless romantic, which surprised Merlin the first time he'd met him. Tall, strong, and with a foreboding air, but as soon as you got him talking about his wife, or the rumor mill at the castle, he couldn't care less about any strange requests sent his way, which worked out perfectly in Merlin's case, even if it did steal a half hour of his time. He'd learned more about what happened between the maids and menservants in the castle than he could ever hope to forget. How did a butcher know all these things, anyways?

"Merlin! There you are; this is the first I've seen of you these past few days," the knight, Leon, said as he bounded over to the warlock, armor clanking with each step. Merlin did a double take. The knight and he had never really been on extremely familiar terms. Why would he be looking for him?

"Er, yeah. Been helping Gaius, you know, trying to find a cure and all," he explained away, weakly.

"Is that what you're trying to hide in your bag is for?"

Merlin stopped trying to move his bag out of view. Leon gave him a knowing look. Merlin's pulse raced just a little faster.

"I didn't come over here to badger you with that. I just wanted to know, the night with you and Haroff, did you come back after leaving for the night?"

Merlin thought. "...no, I went home right after. I didn't want to risk Arthur coming back and finding me in the castle - because he'd just told me he didn't want to see me," he added in a rush. For his efforts, it probably didn't sound any better.

Leon gave him a searching look; it made him shift uncomfortably from foot to foot, though he had no reason to be so nervous. He hadn't lied, not that it would have convinced the knight. He truly wasn't very good at lying, and Leon was much harder to fool than some of the others.

"Pay me no mind." The knight waved his hand. "Sorry to trouble you. My tired eyes must have been playing tricks on me." Merlin's curiosity was piqued.

"Tricks? Why, what did you see?" He tried not to sound too interested.

"I saw you, actually. In the mirror. Thought it was your reflection, but no one was around."

"Me, in the mirror?"

"Yes. But I know now that couldn't be. Though my mother always told me to never trust a mirror." He gave a hearty laugh. "I didn't think she intended it quite this way!"

"Right...did you happen to see what my reflection, the one you thought you saw, looked like? Besides me, of course."

"I merely caught a glimpse."

"I know, but did you see anything significant? A colour?"

Leon bowed his head to think. "I did see a lot of white."

"White?" Merlin parroted.

"Yes, but then it was gone. Why?"

That searching look was back in his eyes, and Merlin knew the questions stopped there. "No reason, just curious." An awkward silence filled the dead air between them. "Well, er, I should get back. Before the meat gets bad, or anything. No time to waste."

The elder man nodded and gave him a parting smile. "Yes, my wishes are with you. Good luck."

"Thank you. And the same to you, with your hunt!"

He tried to say it like he meant it, but it still came out a little flat.

* * *

As soon as the potion was finished, Merlin was off to the castle. Anxiousness was making his muscles twitch and his stomach roil. Maybe this was it, the cure. Maybe they didn't need the mirror after all. That would be such a relief. And then he wouldn't have to worry about whatever it was inside of it.

When he got to the chamber in which Gwen lay, Merlin noticed someone beside the guard, waiting outside the door. It was Arthur. The Prince was leaning against the wall, head bowed in deep thought and worrying his lip.

"Arthur? What are you doing out here?" the servant asked, stuffing the vile of potion into his shirt pocket. He started, head whipping up at Merlin's voice.

"_There_ you are!" Oh great, now what had he done? "I've been trying to find you all day. Why are you never where I need you to be? Go in there and tell me how she is."

Merlin didn't know what to think. "Why don't you just go in there yourself?"

Arthur gave him a long suffering sigh. At that moment he looked very, very tired. "If I could, do you honestly think I would be waiting out here? I have been forbidden by the king."

"Forbidden? To see Gwen? Why?"

"Because my _father_ deems her too much of a distraction." He clenched his jaw and crossed his arms, stubbornly.

"A distraction from your goose chase?" Both of them knew that the hunt was pointless. The look in Arthur's eyes, however, made Merlin rethink his statement. "I mean, searching each house is probably not the best use of manpower. If I were a sorcerer—Edith. If I were Edith, I wouldn't hide in the town while I could easily hide in the mirror. Within the castle." Old news, but he felt it should be said again, anyhow.

"Do you not think I _know_ this, Merlin? I've tried to explain that to him, but he refuses to listen. So now _I'm_ the one that has to lead these men through the kingdom every day, never stopping, until she's brought in. Which will never happen while we're chasing after our tails like this. Until we can find a way to either get her out of the mirror, or go in after her, there's nothing else we _can_ do. Nothing short of finding someone with magic. Someone who could help us." His eyes dropped to the floor. The rage that had been in his voice at the start flickered out, replaced by the silent thoughtfulness that Merlin had interrupted when he first arrived.

Would he really consider it?

Then the warlock thought about _why_ Arthur was considering it. Gwen. It was all for Gwen.

The guard chose this moment to bow his head and walk a few paces further down the hall. Still within clear view of the door in which he was to safeguard, but far enough to allow them some semblance of privacy. He turned to his side, as if looking out the window. Merlin was grateful, and astonished at the man's loyalty to Arthur. He could just as easily alert the King to their sayings.

In a whisper, "Would you go to such lengths for her?" He added as an afterthought, "Sire."

The Prince closed his eyes, and in that moment of silence Merlin felt something akin to irritation rising up in him. For Gwen he would risk magic. But why? Did his infatuation really go so deep? Or was it just loyalty to a friend? No, that couldn't be it. Because Arthur would probably never go to such lengths for _him_. Gwen was special. Animosity, hot and un-tempered, flared, and then was snuffed out by the shaking of the other's head.

"It's not just her. Merlin, you know as well as I do just how dangerous magic can be," Merlin felt pretty secure in saying that he probably knew more than Arthur thought he did, "but because it's so powerful, I don't know if there is any other way to fight it. A sword can only do so much against a fire. Or a sickness. And no one deserves to be abandoned just because the cure is dangerous."

Merlin bowed his head.

"Well, I—maybe this can save us the trouble." He showed him the small vile. "It's worth a shot."

Arthur nodded to him, and waved the guard back over. The man looked nervous. No doubt he was wishing for nothing more than Arthur to just leave and allow him to stand there in peace.

Giving the guard one sympathetic nod—to which Arthur rolled his eyes—Merlin walked into the room. Gwen lay still, just as she had when he first encountered her, on the bed. Her eyes had been closed, and her chest still expanded calmly with every breath. She had not eaten nor drank since being enchanted, yet she still looked healthy; she looked peaceful.

She looked asleep.

He set the mouth of the vile against her lips and tilted. When it emptied, and she swallowed compulsively (how could she still do that?), he sat back and waited.

"C'mon...work. _Work,_" Merlin plead. He watched Gwen's face with rapt attention. Nothing immediately happened, as he had hoped. He tried to not let it deter him. Maybe it would just take a minute for it to work?

He waited.

Arthur called from outside the room, "How is she?"

Merlin did not want to answer. "There's been no change." He attempted to not sound as defeated as he felt.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

There was a moment of silence in which Merlin assumed Arthur was swearing and making the guard very anxious.

Fed up, the warlock shouted, "Would you stop being ridiculous and just come in here?" The door opened, but who walked in was not Arthur. "Morgana, what are you doing here?"

She gave him a flighty smile before sitting across from him, on the opposite side of Gwen's bed.

"Arthur was storming down the hall as I arrived. I thought it best to check." She looked at Gwen with a mixture of sadness and anger. "I saw her eyes," Morgana said after a while. "What could _do_ that to someone's eyes?"

"Magic," he deadpanned. The bitterness was thinly veiled. Morgana looked uncertain.

"Surely not all magic—I mean, perhaps—why _Gwen?_" she managed, looking more lost than Merlin had ever seen her. He wished he had an answer to give her.

"I don't know. If they were targeting Uther, it doesn't make any sense. Maybe they were targeting Arthur?" But why target Arthur? Revenge of some sort? Were they trying to hurt Uther by using Arthur?

She worried her lip. "Then was it random? Surely they thought to provoke such a reaction from anyone? Or else how could they have possibly known of Arthur's affections?"

"I don't _know_. I wish more than anything that I did. It took them one afternoon to ruin everything, and here we are, weeks later, no closer to fixing it than we were on the first day." He ducked his head and pulled his hair in frustration.

Morgana looked taken aback.

"I'm sorry, Merlin. I know she is your friend, as well. It's not fair to demand all the answers from you, is it?" She graced him with the smallest of smiles. "Sometimes it is just easier to look to others for all that which you do not possess yourself."

He didn't raise his head. "I just can't believe it. Gwen's never hurt anyone. She didn't deserve this." He sighed. "I hate people."

"People," Morgana repeated.

"What?"

"You said you hated people. But not magic?" Merlin tried to not allow his expression to show anything of his thoughts. What was she getting at? Was this some sort of test?

"I just think the person behind the magic should be just as responsible as the magic itself."

"...yes. Because it's the person that makes all the difference, correct? Their intent?"

He said nothing.

"Thank you, Merlin," she said sincerely. "I think I will retire to my chambers now. You will let me know if there has been any change?"

She didn't wait for his answer before leaving. Merlin was more confused than ever.

What was that supposed to mean?

* * *

"The potions did not work," Merlin announced, by way of greeting. The heat from the torch was making his skin prick uncomfortably. It was already hot enough in the bloody cave, but he needed the light. The Great Dragon took his time uncurling from the tight ball he slept in. He even stretched leisurely, taking his time, before he made any attempt at replying.

"Oh no? And what, pray tell, would you suppose I could do that you could not?"

"Help, please. There must be something I can do, something I overlooked."

"Then find the error yourself, for once. You can never learn if you do not do things for yourself," the dragon chided.

"Please," he begged, and the torch slipped in his sweat-slick hand. He repositioned it before continuing. "Her life is at stake. Something needs to be done."

Nonchalantly, "The maid's life means nothing to me."

Merlin ground his teeth in an attempt to keep from lashing out. How could such a wise beast be so incredibly _self-centered?_ "What about Arthur's?" The dragon raised a scaly brow in interest. "He's killing himself looking for Edith. Can you help _him_?"

"If I knew where she was, I would tell you." Merlin didn't believe that for a minute. "As is, it is marginally difficult to know what goes on above from down here." He gave Merlin a cold glare.

"I know, I know." Merlin sighed. "I am trying to find a way to free you. Still."

"Not hard enough," the Great Dragon retorted. Merlin groaned.

"What about the mirror?" he tried. "Can you tell me anything about that?"

The beast's eyes narrowed. "What about a mirror?"

Something about the dragon's tone was off. He seemed...suspicious? Nervous. He was nervous.

"The mirror in the castle. That's how Maud escaped. It might be how Edith escaped, as well."

"_Through_ the mirror? And you didn't think to tell me this earlier."

"Is it important?" He felt a tiny surge of hope building in his chest. Finally, maybe now he could _do_ something!

"No."

Or not.

But the Great Dragon was shifting, and his jaw locked tight. "...you're lying!" he accused. The torch was slipping again.

"Do _not_ question me!" he roared, with such awesome power that Merlin felt his heart rush in his chest. "If you so desperately seek my advice, helpless one, then do not _question_ my word."

He wasn't thinking when he immediately rebuked, "_I'm_ helpless? Who needs whose help to get free?"

The pure fury that lit the dragon's eyes was undeniable, and Merlin tried not to be swallowed into the hole that had just hollowed out his stomach.

"How _dare_ you? You come to me for help, demanding it from me, when you give _nothing_ in return. What I ask of you is my freedom. That which is rightfully mine from the beginning. And you throw it in my face."

Abashed didn't quite cover the myriad of feelings Merlin was going through at that moment. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"Didn't mean to say that? Afraid that you have offended me, or that by saying what you have that I will no longer help you?"

"Yes. I mean, no. Wait."

"Listen to me now, little fool," he seethed. "Do not tread on the toes of those with whom you may someday quarrel. Especially those more powerful than yourself." The rocks of his perch beneath his strong talons crackled when he leaned forward. "And heed this: if you know what is good for you, then you will smash that mirror into a million pieces. The maid's life be damned. More lives will be lost than hers should you fail to listen to me."

Merlin didn't wait for clarification, nor did the Great Dragon supply it. It was unnervingly silent as he made the trek back up the stone staircase, heart in his throat.

* * *

When he had gone back to the mirror that night, he had every intention of breaking it. But now that he was there, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He stared into the eyes of his reflection. He couldn't hurt Arthur like that. He couldn't abandon Gwen. No, the beast must be wrong. It wouldn't be the first time he'd lied in order to get his own way. The question was: why? What about this mirror set him so on edge?

The reflection's eyes flashed, not gold, but gray. Merlin started and took a step back. It was him! The _other_ him. The one from the dream. It wasn't possible, was it? He was very much _awake_ at this moment. The other grinned at him, and slowly reached towards the glass.

Then _through_ the glass.

Squawking in his fright, Merlin fell to the floor, where he proceeded to scramble away. The reflection just stood there, hand through the glass, and began to laugh.

Did he laugh like that?

The hard smack to the floor was enough to shock some of his senses back to him. Indignation rose up like a flame. Gangly limbs went every which way in his attempt to stand. Why was he acting so silly; it was probably just an illusion! Maybe a guard to the mirror? A trick to keep them from trying to find a way through? Though that still didn't explain why it had to look like _him_. Maybe because he was one of the first people to try to get through? Or...something. Something reasonable. The duplicate's laughter subsided, and he let his arm fall back to his side. The smile, the one that made Merlin's skin crawl, never left his face.

Until the face was no longer there.

Just like that, the other was gone, and all that remained was Merlin. Alright, so he needed to get more information on what he was dealing with, here. Gaius' many books on magical creatures and the like must be able to help him _somehow_. Something, a throwaway detail even, could be helpful. A step closer.

Merlin walked the opposite direction down the hall, unfeeling of the golden gaze that followed, until he was out of sight.

* * *

"I told you, I wasn't even _tired_ when I saw it, let alone asleep." Merlin was _hot_. Never before had he been quite so easy to anger, save perhaps a few select instances with the royal prat himself. Gaius just wasn't _listening_ to him. And if he didn't listen, then how was he supposed to be of any help?

"I understand, Merlin, I'm just trying to rule out the possibility. Settle down." He looked at him as if he were analyzing him. It made his skin itch. "I believe you," he said at last.

Still angry, but trying to control himself, Merlin stalked over to the potions book in which he had found the concoction he had tried earlier this afternoon on Gwen.

"It didn't work. I think it might have been the lungs. Maybe they _do_ have to be human."

The physician frowned and shook his head. "I do not have, nor would ever take, a human's lung. If the sheep's lung didn't work, then the potion itself is to blame, not the ingredient."

While the ethics of the situation made sense, all Merlin could garner from his response was 'I will not help you.'

"Well, if _you_ won't do something about it, then maybe I'll just have to find them myself." There were enough graveyards around. Simply enough, just look for the freshest mound of dirt. The fact that he would be taking the organ from someone's family, and that it would be _him_ that had to extract it never really crossed his mind.

"You will do no such thing," Gaius snapped. "I think you've been so worried over Gwen that you have neglected to take into account exactly what your actions may do. You need to calm yourself. Sleep. When you are thinking clearer tomorrow morning, we will decide what to do."

Merlin saw red, but held his tongue. No one was going to help him! Not Gaius, not the dragon, not Arthur. It was all _him_.

Fine.

He stormed up the stairs to his bedroom and threw himself on the bed. Perhaps he really was more tired that he'd thought, as despite his roiling emotions, he was asleep in seconds.

* * *

To say the dreams were nightmares might have been an overstatement.

He found himself entombed in the endless darkness once again, aware in that vague dream-sense. He knew he wasn't supposed to be here. Where was that? He also knew he was not alone. The mirror was suddenly before him, and his double. It didn't seem strange. For the first time, he didn't immediately draw back from him. He took the chance to look, and the other did the same.

Why did the mirror copy him and then warp said copy? Facial features were the same, but brown eyes instead of blue. Hair in the same state of disarray, but gray-white and much too long. Clothes were almost entirely different: silvery robes, finely threaded, but with a shabby blue neckerchief tied loosely around his throat, matching Merlin's red.

He tried not to be jealous of a reflection.

An abrupt motion broke his observation. Something thick and black was dripping down the smooth glass. It was like the darkness was melting, and it scared him. He looked at his copy, which placed his hand on the other side of the glass, fear plain on his face. What was happening? He knew that the reflection was asking for his help, but he didn't know how he could. More paint-like darkness slid down the surface. He had to move quickly.

But when he reached his hand out to the glass, the mirror twisted harshly to the side. It was spinning. He had to step back and just watch as the darkness covered it, the other still holding his hand out to him. He didn't save him, was all he could think, before he found himself conscious and staring at his ceiling, pillow damp.

* * *

Two hours of waiting and nothing had shown in the mirror besides his own impatient face. Honestly, Merlin wasn't sure what he was expecting. After last night's dream, he was feeling edgy. Calmer, in a sense, than he had been the day before, but unnerved. The dream had spooked him. Thoughtfully, he decided to touch the glass, to trace where, in the dream, the darkness had painted it.

He didn't expect his hand to go through it.

Too shocked to control himself, Merlin sharply withdrew his hand. How did he _do_ that? He'd done nothing different, no spells or incantations. Why had he suddenly gotten through? He put his hand back to the glass, but it held firm. Oh no, what if that had been his chance? Panic was rising.

"_Mer_lin!"

The warlock jumped in fright at the Prince's voice. Wasn't he supposed to be out about doing nothing for the King?

"What?" was all he could think to reply.

Arthur did not look happy. "_Where_ is the guard?" he interrogated.

In the supply closet.

"Haven't the slightest."

Arthur didn't react, which was the first indicator that something was wrong. His face was blank and he was slowly advancing upon him, slowly, as if approaching a deer.

Quietly, "Merlin, for once in your life just listen to me and get away from the mirror."

So of course he didn't. Remaining exactly where he was, he looked behind him. His duplicate was there, grinning widely at him, and looking incredibly pleased at something. He reached out to Merlin through the mirror. Arthur was running towards them, shouting. Merlin was stunned, but he held enough sense to fumble back. He just wasn't fast enough.

The reflection fisted his coat and pulled.

Arthur's fingers brushed his boot, and he heard the terrified "Mer—!" before slipping completely behind the glass.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you all for reading. Feedback is _very_ greatly appreciated!


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